


Something to Fill the Hole in Your Heart

by Luces



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort Food, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I just want him to be happy, porn scene at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luces/pseuds/Luces
Summary: Angel stared up at the ceiling. A dozen cigarette butts were strewn around him as he lied in bed, his arms stretched out over the sheets. This was the space he dreaded. This hollow, empty space between the highs. Thoughts would pop up in these empty spaces. Awful, intrusive thoughts and memories that he had long tried to forget.
Relationships: Angel Dust & Charlie Magne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	Something to Fill the Hole in Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a sort of fluffy, sort of angsty hurt/comfort fic that has been picking away at me all week. I just want Angel to be happy.
> 
> This is also my first fic for this fandom, which shouldn't make me nervous because I have 48 fics on AO3 already, but I've only written for two fandoms in 6 years. Hopefully the characters don't come off too OOC as I figure out how to write their voices.

It was obscenely hot in the studio. It was always hot in the studio—this was Hell, after all—but today it was worse than Hell. It was like a bikram yoga studio. The participants inside were red-faced and dripping with sweat, but the only one who was stretching and contorting into all sorts of poses was Angel.

What had started out as a pretty cute outfit was now torn to shreds. Jagged pieces of red plaid still hung from around his waist—a whisper of the pleated schoolgirl skirt he had started in. By this point in the shoot, it was the only thing that suggested the scene's premise.

_"Angel, baby, you're going to love what I have in store for you today," Val purred._

_On most days, Angel wouldn't have questioned such a statement. He genuinely loved his job, even if he didn't always love who he worked for. This morning, however, something in Val's voice made him feel uneasy._

_"A schoolgirl costume? Come on, Val. I've done that a thousand times. This is getting kinda old and tired, doncha think?"_

_"Now now, keep your pretty mouth shut before you know all of the answers. I promise you that you have never done this before. You're right that the Schoolgirl Shenanigans series has gotten stale. So what if poor little Sandy Schoolgirl accidentally wandered into an American football stadium and sucked off all fifty-three members of the roster. Wouldn't that be something? Can't you picture it?"_

_Angel's eyes widened. The most people he'd ever worked with in one scene was twenty, and that had involved hands as well as holes. The idea of that many dicks going in and out of his mouth in one round was arousing, but also terrifying._

_"Ahh, aintcha think that's a bit much? I mean fifty-three? That's fuckin' crazy, even for me. I can't do that shit."_

_Val's eyes narrowed. He closed the space between him and his product. He grabbed Angel's chin, squeezing and pushing it up. Angel winced as his long fingers dug into his jaw._

_"I'm sorry. I think I misheard you. You wanna say that again?"_

_Angel's grimace gave way to a weak attempt at a smile. "Anything for you, Mister Valentino, Sir!"_

_"Good boy. Now hurry up and get dressed. Time is fucking money."_

The football jerseys were long abandoned on the floor. After over two hours of shooting, Angel couldn't keep track of who was who. His body was being pulled in every direction. Greedy hands grabbing at his hips, arms, legs, neck—anything they could get a firm grip on. Moans escaped from his mouth every time his fur was pulled just a bit too hard. His own erection strained against the white satin panties that had managed to survive so far.

His eyes glazed over from the bountiful spread of dick surrounding him. Every size, shape, and color he could imagine found its way into his mouth, rubbing against his face or slapping on his tongue before roughly shoving its way inside. His chin and chest were dripping with drool. He hadn't been able to close his mouth once since they started. The cold, wet feeling of his matted fur was a reminder at just how badly they craved him. Waves of euphoria washed over his body. It felt so good to be wanted, to be desired.

As the final push toward the film's climax, the demons packing the most heat gathered in front of him. Angel leaned back, supporting himself with each arm. He licked his lips and opened his mouth as wide as possible. Tears streamed down his face as they tried to see how many dicks "Sandy" could fit in her mouth.

The answer was five.

Angel stayed in his reclined position, mouth open and tongue out, as all fifty-three demons jerked off around him. Like fireworks bursting around him, they each came hard, coating him in their hot, sticky fluid. The camera zoomed in on Angel's smiling face dripping with cum.

"And cut!"

The moment the director called out cut, the entire crew came out to quickly break down the set.

"Thank you guys for your hard work, now if you'll just follow me, we'll go discuss payment with Mister Valentino."

The sea of dick parted as Angel's co-stars followed the director out of the room, eager to get their cash and get the fuck out. Angel softly whined as he watched them leave. He felt empty without them inside of him. He hated that feeling. He finally stood up, his knees stiff from kneeling for nearly three hours without a break.

"Hey Angie," said one of Val's assistants, "you look like shit. Take this."

Angel looked up to get hit in the face with a towel.

"What the fuck?! You coulda given me more warning, asshole!"

He pulled the towel off his head, wiping his face in the process. He scurried after the assistant as he started to wipe off as much as he could from his fur.

"So where's my money? Val promised I'd get paid today!"

The assistant stopped on a dime. Angel nearly crashed into him, narrowly stumbling to the side. The assistant turned to look at him and slowly tilted his head.

"Why don't you go ask Val where it is? And good fucking luck with that, sweetums."

He threw his head back and cackled as he continued on his way.

Angel cringed. "Bitch…" he mumbled under his breath.

He returned to his dressing room and finished cleaning up. He quickly changed into street clothes and threw on a jacket in an attempt to go incognito on the walk home.

Most nights, Angel reveled in the way others would look at him when he was out in public. Whether it was because they were star-struck by his infamy or simply horny on main street, everyone's eyes were drawn to him when he walked the streets. He loved the attention. He craved it. It made the emptiness go away, at least for a while.

But some nights after work, Angel just wanted to get back to the hotel as soon as possible—and tonight was one of them.

He shivered in the night air. It wasn't _actually_ cold—again, this was Hell after all—but compared to the porn studio, there was a noticeable difference. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and held it out to light it in a nearby dumpster fire. He took a long drag and held it in. He closed his eyes as he slowly exhaled. It helped calm him somewhat, but he was still irritable

"Fuckin' prick shithead Val," he thought. "I don't know why I keep believing anything he says. I literally stick my ass out for him time after time and he lies to my face cause he knows I can't do shit about it."

He growled as he reached into his pocket for another cigarette.

By the time he reached the hotel, he had four cigarettes in four different hands. He unceremoniously burst through the lobby door, kicking it shut behind him.

Husk jolted at the sound and looked up from his phone call with his bookie. "Yeah, I gotta go. Eh, put a hundred down on the Grave Digger. Okay, I'll call ya later."

He ended the call and tossed the phone behind him. He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and clasping his hands behind his head.

"Tough day at work, kid?" he asked, eyeing the cigarettes.

"Go suck a dick."

"Nah, that's your job," he chuckled.

Angel rolled his eyes and continued down the hall. As he passed the kitchen, he was spotted by Charlie, who ran out to greet him.

"Welcome home, Angel!" she chirped.

Her smile quickly faded as she smelled the smoke and saw the glow from the embers.

"Angel! What did I tell you about smoking? We're trying to get you into Heaven, remember?"

Angel stopped and sighed. He turned around to face Charlie and used every ounce of restraint he had left. "I've already given up drugs for you, and that's the best you're gonna get outta me right now, babe. I'm on fuckin' edge tonight, and unless you want me to start shooting up the joint, the smokes stay."

Charlie was silent for a moment, disappointment in her eyes. She nodded, resigning herself to his demands. She'd take this over the other options.

"Anyway! Come see what Vaggie and I are doing in the kitchen!" she said, changing the subject.

Angel smirked as he followed her into the kitchen. "Lemme guess. You're eating fish tacos? Cherry pie? Curtains of the meat variety?"

"What? No! That's for later…" she muttered.

Vaggie rolled her eyes. "We're making a pot roast with some sweet potatoes and carrots. Charlie's really proud of it, so you'd better fucking eat some, and you'd better fucking like it."

Angel looked at the food and frowned. It wasn't that it didn't look appetizing. It was that the adrenaline and endorphins from the shoot had finally dissipated, and he realized that his jaw _fucking_ _hurt_. Why did he think that keeping his mouth open for three hours and then overextending it for a solid twenty minutes was a good idea? It seemed sexy at the time, but he hadn't considered the repercussions of his actions. That had been for future Angel to worry about.

Well now future Angel was here, and he was tired, sore, and pissed off at past Angel. Not wanting to suffer the wrath of Vaggie and the sad puppy eyes of Charlie, he quickly came up with an excuse that wasn't _entirely_ a lie.

"It smells great, toots, but I am simply _stuffed_. I was fed a lot of demon cock today at work—fifty-three, to be exact—and I just couldn't eat another bite."

Charlie crinkled her nose in disgust. She then noticed something in his hair. She reached her hand out to touch it, then reconsidered.

"You, ah, you got something there," she said.

Angel looked up and touched his hair. He could feel a cold, gelatinous liquid on his fingertips, and he knew exactly what it was. He scooped up the glob with two fingers and held it out in front of him.

"It's cum, babe. Guess I must've missed some. Hmm, maybe I can have just _one_ more bite." He stuck his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. "See? I already ate. Good night!"

He turned around and waved them off as he headed upstairs.

"Well that was gross," said Vaggie, once he had disappeared. "But what do you expect from Angel."

Charlie frowned. "Yeah, I guess."

That should have been the end of it, but Charlie couldn't stop thinking about Angel. She wasn't upset that he didn't want to eat her cooking—honestly, Vaggie was the one who cared about all that—but she did want to make sure that everyone at the hotel was well-fed. Demons can't work on their own redemption if they don't have the energy because they're hungry. She had a feeling that there was another reason behind why Angel didn't want to eat, and it wasn't because he was full up on dick.

Fifty-three. The number stuck out in her head. That's a lot. She knew Angel was a seasoned professional, but that just sounded absurd. His jaw must be in so much pain that the idea of chewing a pot roast was not what he wanted to do with his evening. If she asked him about it, she knew he'd deny it outright. Still, she wanted to do something nice for him. She felt that she owed it to him, as the hotel's first customer, and as a friend.

She told Vaggie she was going out for a bit and threw on a coat, disappearing into the night.

* * *

Angel stared up at the ceiling. A dozen cigarette butts were strewn around him as he lied in bed, his arms stretched out over the sheets. This was the space he dreaded. This hollow, empty space between the highs. He used to be able to fill those holes with beautiful white powder, but Charlie and her stupid redemption bullshit had ruined all that. The cigarettes helped take the edge off a little, but it just wasn't the same.

Thoughts would pop up in these empty spaces. Awful, intrusive thoughts and memories that he had long tried to forget. A deep ache began to manifest in his chest—one that hurt more than his jaw ever could. He rolled over onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest.

A loud knock at the door made his heart jump. He decided to ignore it. Maybe if he didn't respond, they'd eventually go away.

After a minute, there was another knock. Angel sighed and rolled out of bed. Opening the door a crack, he squinted at the bright light that flooded in from the hallway. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw Charlie standing there with a paper bag.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Do I really got a fucking choice?" he asked back. He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge. He turned on his bedside lamp, then crossed his arms. "Whaddaya want?"

Charlie closed the door behind her. "I know you said you weren't hungry, but I brought you something anyway." She held the bag out in front of her.

Angel raised an eyebrow at her, but shrugged and took the bag anyway. He started to open it and a familiar smell wafted out. His face lit up and he looked back up at Charlie.

"It's some garlic soup from Hell's Soup Kitchen," she said. "I wanted to get you some Minestrone, but I figured with all the vegetables, it might be hard for you to chew at the moment…"

"I love that fuckin' hole in the wall. How did you know that?"

She smiled. "I've seen you and Cherri go in there at least a dozen times, so I assumed that you really liked it. It sounded like you had a tough day at work, and jobs suck, even when you enjoy what you do, like...you know…"

"Having five dicks in your mouth at once?" Angel grinned.

"Holy shit, _five at once?!_ How is that even possible?"

"It's called _talent_ , babe," he said, placing his hand lightly on his chest.

"Anyway, I thought you might like the soup. Good night."

Charlie opened the door and started to leave.

"Hey Charlie?"

She stopped in the doorway and turned to look at him.

"Thanks. For the soup."

She nodded and smiled, closing the door behind her.

Angel took the bowl of soup out of the bag and placed it on the vanity. Peeking inside the bag, he found a plastic spoon, packet of crackers, and a couple of ibuprofen. A tiny amused smile crossed his face. Doctor Charlie to the rescue.

He looked over at Nuggets and clicked his tongue to call him over. Opening the crackers, he leaned over to place them in front of the little pig, scratching the area around his ears as he happily ate the snack.

Angel took the lid off the bowl and was hit with a strong, savory smell. He inhaled deeply and sighed. He dipped the spoon into the creamy soup and brought it up to his mouth. The familiar, comforting taste on his tongue brought on a rush of feelings that he was not prepared for. Without any warning, he began to cry.

Nuggets rubbed up against his leg and grunted. Angel looked down and laughed, reaching down to scoop him up into his arms.

"Don't worry, Nuggs, it's okay. I'm okay. It's just…"

He felt a pleasant warmth radiating from his chest. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"...this soup is really good."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking this out! If you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos or comment, if you feel comfortable.
> 
> I only just finally watched the show a little over a week ago, so I'd love to meet people to gush with. Feel free to contact me @otherluces on Twitter and Twitter, or Luces#5969 on discord.


End file.
